No, Mister, I’ve no messages ter send along the track
But I thank y’ fer enquiring, jest the same;
Fer it’s mighty near an age agone I wandered from Out-back,
And I dessay they’re forgettin’ this old frame:
But you’ll find a hearty welcome at the far end o’ the pad,
Where the rank and file is nothin’—only mates;
And I wish yer luck ... but stay!
If yer chance along his way,
Jest remember me to Old Bill Bates.
We both battled on together since the year o’ ’Ninety-two,
And we mostly hung around the outer rim,
And we drank, and fought, and made-up friends, as good as gold, and true,
Till the camp took us for brothers—me and him:
You will find him crush to sample, if you try him by the bulk,
And you’ll find the ’malgam ribbed along the plates;
Fer he’s pretty high-grade rock
From his flannel to his sock,
Is that sun-dried salamander, Old Bill Bates!
But in case yer fail ter reckernise his features at the pub,
(Fer he might be outer luck, or off the spree)
Yer can fossick through the workin’s till y’ find his rub-a-dub,
And then all yer got to do, is mention me:
And yer won’t want any witness to identerfy yer phiz.
Nor yer won’t need to projoos no days or dates,
If he doesn’t claim yer straight
F’r a white man and a mate,
Then that party isn’t Old Bill Bates!
Y’ might guess him fer a chap what wears a pretty stiffish lip,
And he user ter own a one-eyed spotted bitch,
And he’s mostly rags and air-holes—jest the picter of his kip—
So it’s hard ter tell (fer strangers) which is which;
But he’s grit right to the bottom, and the mate what’s tried his sand,
He ’ud swag it back from them ’ere Pearly Gates
With a longish stride, I’ll swear,
If they kep’ no lodger there
By the monniker of “Old Bill Bates.”
[Illustration: OLD BILL BATES]
No, thanks, Mister, I’ve no message—since I’ve opened out my drum,
Where a suit o’ tailor’s clobber pulls the strings;
But (I wouldn’t say it public) I am feelin’ pretty glum
When I start a-cogitatin’ about things:
But you’ll find a hearty welcome where the sky begins ter dip,
Out where mates is mostly men, and men is mates,
And I wish yer luck ... and say!
If yer chance upon his way,
Jest remember me to Old Bill Bates.
[Decoration: Black swan]
[Illustration: Men observing fantastic creatures]